Whispers Of The Wind
by Lychantrope
Summary: A sad story about Zack's lover and their daughter. Just something I started at a sleepless night and needed to get out of my system. Hope you enjoy it. Rated for safety.


A/N: This is my first finished fic and I would really like to know what you think. Also English isn't my mother – tongue, and I've only practiced it at school, so please, if you see a mistake tell me about it. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy or any of it's characters.

Whispers of the Wind

"I wanted to dream of him. Last night. It is all I have left of him, just a dream.

But there wasn't any wind in the trees to help them sing their song. It usually did it; it helped me sleep, if only because I could still hear his voice within their tones. It lulled me with its soft whisper and let me have a glimpse of what once was.

I still miss him. I always did, even when I knew he was away only for a day.

But he was not the one Fate had chosen for me. No.

He was the one my heart chose, despite Fait's word, and now she is punishing me for not obeying. I was to be someone else's, a future that will never come to be, not anymore.

The night sky, filled with stars twinkling playfully, reminded me of him. He was always so happy, always smiling, never letting anything get him down for long. He was just that kind of a person, talking for his hopes and dreams, and honor. So cheerful, so full of life. I remember when he had to stay at one place. He always looked like he would bolt to somewhere any second now, waggling happily his nonexistent tail.

He always did find his way through and made others smile. Made me smile, when no one else could. It was amazing actually, how he managed that. I just couldn't not return his grin, the grin that broke loose from it's binds and graced his face with it's mischievous innocence. It sounds strange, even to myself, but it was so natural for him.

And the day. The day is worse. Whenever I look up I see the color of his eyes. His eyes staring back at me, telling me not to be sad, that it doesn't suit me. Comforting me and whispering that everything will be ok, that I will be ok.

But I won't be.

Because he's gone.

I will never again tease him about the way his pitch-black hair defies gravity, nor the way he sometimes unconsciously bounces on his feet. I will never feel the warmth of his skin, nor the softness of his hair, or inhale his sweet scent.

I will never again feel the unbelievingly soft caress of his calloused hands. Nor his gentle embrace.

And I wouldn't be ok.

I couldn't be ok when I was to never see him again.

He's gone.

And he's not coming back.

And I cherish every moment I've spent with him, happy or sad, laughing or fighting.

It's been seven years now. Seven long years without him. So much time had passed. Yet I'm still stuck in that moment, the moment when I knew he had died. I felt something break inside of me, shredding to pieces, agonizingly painful pieces. They bit into the essence of my very soul, tearing it apart, still tearing it to tiny little crumbs, devouring all life within them.

I have engraved every glimpse of him in my memory, so he won't fade away. Every night in his arms, every time I had to pick up the pieces he was shredded to and put them together after a too bloody mission. I picked them up, patiently and glued them back together so he could find himself again, be himself again. Countless times I had dragged him into the shower, washing the blood away, countless times I have witnessed his tears, mine flowing silently with his sobs. And countless times he was there, picking patiently the pieces of my heart and gluing them together again with his unconditional love.

But now he is gone.

When the leaves sing I can still sense him, standing there beside me, telling me to keep going, to move on, for him, for our friends. For our daughter, the twelve years old girl that became the centre of my existence once he disappeared.

It saddens me that she never got to meet her father. That he never got to meet her.

She went to the Turks last year, for training. She had sent me one letter during all that time. A single letter to tell me that she is alive and happy and that she loves me. I'm glad she found something that makes her smile. She'll need it soon. Too soon.

I don't regret letting her go there. It was her choice, if it makes her happy, so be it. At least I know she is capable of holding her own, of protecting herself. I only regret that she would need to. And I fear it will be soon.

You see, my people are cursed to know the day of their death, even the way they'll go. To know when She will come for them, bringing part of what they are to an end. Everyone I knew thought it was a curse, but now I wonder, is it really? I know I will die tonight and I am not afraid of it. It is the price to see him again, to be with him again. I'm sorry for only one thing though …

I may not have the chance to tell my daughter again that I love her. That she means the world to me.

And she will always mean the world for me, here and beyond the grave.

Don't get me wrong, I will fight with everything I have, and more, to survive. Just the possibility of me surviving that night is one in a million. It was the consequence of my choice, defying Fate and choosing my heart instead. For my choice, I was banished from my people, their protection no longer existing for me, thus my powers fading slowly with time.

And now it's a simple choice – go out there and take down as much as I can, and probably die in the process; or hide somewhere causing the deaths of innocent people. Because our ancient enemy never stops. No, they will fight until one of the races is completely and utterly wiped out, even going after the weakened, like me.

I cannot ask for help either. It will destroy my people's oath for secrecy, one of the few things that has kept us alive and relatively safe during all that time, since the days of the Cetra. Every time that even a glimpse of our existence appears, someone is sent to destroy it and make sure it won't appear again.

It is their way. I respect it; understand it even. I only hope that my little girl will not be haunted by it, I hope that when she read my diary she will destroy it, not keep it. It would be better that way

So there isn't really any choice. My honor won't let me allow innocent to get hurt because of me. My legacy will not allow me to ask for help. All I can do is fight when the storm begins, only the wind and rain at my side. And I will fight with everything I got, because there is nothing for me to lose. Even if I don't survive I will make sure to take as many as I can with me, so my daughter won't have to deal with them.

So she would be a little bit safer.

And if I do survive I will keep going, so I can be with her when she grows and falls in love. I will keep going, only to smile back when she does.

And if I don't, I ask this of you - leave my blades alongside my body. Let the curse they bear die out with me. It was mine to bear and it is mine to keep.

There is so much more to say. But there is no time left. The storm is drawing close and soon I will have to go.

Reno, Rude, I ask of you to take a good care of my daughter. If you don't I will return from the grave and haunt you.

Cloud, Tifa, thank you.

Barrett, Cid, Yuffie****, Vincent, Nanaki, thank you.

I could not have done it without you. You were there for me, and I am sorry I couldn't be there for you.

Verena, my daughter, please forgive me that I won't be there to see you grow up, fall in love, laugh and cry, smile and pout. You were the light of my life from the moment you were born and I want you to know that I love you. Don't grieve for me, we will meet again when the time comes. Until then I want you to be happy. Know that I will never truly leave you, even if you can't see me I'll be there. And thank you, my daughter, for every smile you gave me, for letting me know you.

The first lightning struck, I have to bid you farewell.

This is Goodbye. Until the time we meet again I wish you happiness. Live your lives, live them fine. And never let yourselves regret anything. Be happy, that's all that matters.

Thank you for being there.

Goodbye!"

Verena folded the paper, tears slowly making their way past her cheeks to the ground. She took a deep shaky breath, holding the paper tight to her chest. A pair of arms surrounded her, hugging her close. She shut her violet eyes, burying her face in Tifa's shoulder, letting her tears flow freely, listening to the woman's voice murmuring soft words of comfort.

When they first went to the house it was just after a fiery storm. Verena had chosen that day to visit her mother, she had wanted to surprise her, after being apart for a whole year. There was so much she wanted to share, to talk about. She had passed through 7th Haven on her way to the house picking up Tifa and Cloud, with the intention of making it even better of a surprise.

That is when the storm had hit and they decided to wait it out. But when they had finally arrived it was too late.

Upon their arrival at the small house Verena had run off ahead, shouting at the top of her lungs "Surprise!" Nobody had answered. It had been eerie quiet.

"Mom?" She had called again, worry evident in her voice.

Then she froze, her blood turning to ice in her veins.

There, sitting innocently on the coffee table had been her mother's diary, a folded paper and a pendant, placed atop of them.

The pendant her father had made for her mother before Verena was born.

The one she didn't took off. Not once.

She had ran around, searching for her mother, until she had found her.

She was dead.

They came too late.

The storm had washed away most of the blood off her mother's broken body. Her old uniform, once cautiously preserved, was now only a rag full of tearings. Her face had been calm and peaceful, happy even, all the hidden pain and suffering it used to bear gone. A kind of expression she had never seen in her mother, not even when she was smiling at her. It was as if she was finally free.

They came too late. Not one of her opponents was alive; the ground around her body covered in blood and corpses. She had fought with all she had had. She had given everything there was to give. And more.

And now, a week after, Verena was sitting near a freshly dug grave on a cliff, overlooking the ruins of Midgar. Her mother's grave next to her father's. Smoke was drifting slowly around her, the remains of her mother's diary being slowly spilled by the whispering wind.

"Goodbye. I will always love you and never forget you." She murmured softly, almost like she said it to herself. Turning around she wiped her tears away and headed for the two men – one lean with fiery red hair, the other burly and bold - waiting for her. She nodded silently to them and without a word the group moved together towards the helicopter, waiting patiently at the side.

As the wind kept blowing, a gentle whisper could be heard within it. "We love you. We'll wait for you. Until the time we meet again."

A soft smile graced Verena's features followed by a lone tear, as the helicopter ascended, her eyes fixed on the shadowy figures only she could see.

"Until the time we meet again."

The figures dissolved, leaving behind only lazily blowing, whispering wind.


End file.
